and a Candle, in the Window

 

 

Owed,  to Joy

(  Spectral Harmony )

 

  

 i

words of Love,  flew from his pen,  as though he were machine,

and as he wrote of Where and When,  his heart flew in between,

 

and there are those he did suppose,  that have no time for this,

so just as well,  he could tell,  Love is nothing they would miss,

 

from each page,  he quiets the rage,  and so in God he trusts,

through the Wind and through the Rain,  still and all he rusts,

 

hold no Despair nor troubled Air,  regarding this reddish cast,

for he is glad,  and of iron,  clad,  so his Words of Armor,  last,

 

he will not bend,  he will not sway,  from this appointed mark,

for the iron man does All he can,  bringing Light upon a dark,

 

through All The Days,  in All The Ways,  ever he toils ’til then,

     ’til comes a Time,  All will climb,  to this View of Love,  Again . . .

 

 

 

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Eighth DoveTale – The Bridge of Dreams

 

 

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